Bagawath Bhandari
(In tribute to Mamta, a woman who tragically lost her life at the hands of her husband.)
The zephyr of new celebration was around the corner,
Colourful saris and oars were bought in womanly honour.
A smile was spread across Manassas Park,
Alas! Colourful Teej for Mamta and Neema turned so dark.
A pool of blood was poured into the beauty of an American home,
When Mamta cried for her life in a painful song of woe.
Innocent Neema slept peacefully in her comfy cradle,
While Mamta was murdered and dragged into a bloody puddle.
Who snatched her breath and took her life away?
Was it an unknown hand or a known one in momentous sway?
Or is she alive in an unknown place on American land,
Safe and sound in a beautiful home, in comfortable hands?
No, a pool of blood, missing knives, and Tesla to CarMax
Tell a tale of Mamta’s last breath on her cozy bed as fact.
The thought of selling the house tickles another storyline—
The house itself is a scene of an unknown and unexpected crime.
Was Neema sleeping when her mother was killed and dragged?
Or was she handed to someone to cover the bare facts?
Did Naresh kill Mamta and cover his lies with clever tact?
O God! Why can’t You explain justice with Your open act?
My verse doesn’t curse Naresh, for he is still not a criminal,
But if the story takes a turn, he must bear the fee of death as minimal.
Mamta, the sublime woman of loyalty and integrity, met death—
A death not far from her own home and cozy bed.
Neema, with no choice, was punished at her tender age,
While Naresh can’t explain reality but happily accepts the cage.
Whom shall we blame? Where is the lost soul to be found?
Who failed to act or perform their duty so profound?
Police and the community try every possible means to find her.
Is she beneath the ocean or above those twinkling stars?
Will justice be served for the victim of this cruel game?
If not, humanity ceases to exist in our very name.
Dear judges with integrity, let justice soon be served on the table,
While the sun is rising or the night glows with the moon’s fable.
We want the criminal punished and locked behind bars,
With no bail to view the land or gaze at the stars.
Dear Neema, you can’t even imagine what happened at this age,
No prophet can explain it to you, nor the greatest sage.
Muster all your little courage and move forward in lengths,
Our prayers and wishes are with you to gain your strength.
Dear God, let justice be served and criminals be punished,
Let all the women in this universe be safe and cherished.
Let this little message of peace travel the world through my verse,
With showers of love for every woman across the universe.
(Bagawath Bhandari is a poet from Bhutan)
